


Two-Man Job

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Blake's 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-22
Updated: 2008-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-25 03:58:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1630310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A delicate negotiation forces Avon and Tarrant into close quarters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two-Man Job

**Author's Note:**

> Not actually a holiday story, but inspired in a way by the panto season.
> 
> Written for Tels

 

 

"I have the information you requested," Orac announced.

"Under three hours this time," Vila commented gloomily. "And we only had to kick you twice. You're getting co-operative in your old age."

"I am incapable of ageing, as even you should very well know," the machine retorted briskly. 

"We should be thankful," Tarrant said. "Imagine him even older and crankier."

"And as for being co-operative," Orac continued loftily, "that is scarcely my concern. I have much important work of my own to pursue which is beyond the scope of your mundane requirements, not to say your intellects."

"And in return for our allowing you to pursue it," Tarrant said, "we expect you to supply our 'mundane' requirements promptly and without complaint. So out with it."

"I assume that means you wish me to relay the information."

"You assume correctly."

"Very well. The individual you wish to contact is one Arkor Dreen. He is in contact with the smuggling cartel whose ships have been diverting Federation arms transports, and is in a position to negotiate on their behalf."

"Where is he based?"

"The planet Derveron. I shall transmit course and speed details to the navigational computers. There is one other factor."

"Tell us on the way." Tarrant was already moving. "Cally, will you tell Avon we have the information. I'm sure he'll want to hear it for himself."

"This factor could be of significance in the negotiations," Orac said, as Cally mutely put aside her book and left the flight deck.

"Whatever it is," Tarrant said, with a flash of the legendary teeth, "I'm sure Avon will be able to sort it out." And with that he turned and followed Cally.

"I see no reason," Orac remarked testily, "why I should be obliged to deliver every item of information twice."

"I'm surprised," Vila said. "I'd have thought you would understand sulking perfectly."

"I understand the phenomenon. I do not understand why the rest of the crew tolerates it."

Vila sighed. "We need Avon and we need Tarrant. If we don't let them find their own way of dealing with each other, one of them is going to get shot. At the moment, the way they've found involves never being together in the same place. So what's this other factor you mentioned?"

"Will I now have to say everything three times?"

"No, just this one thing."

Orac explained.

*

"Absolutely not," Dayna said flatly. "I am not going back there."

"You wouldn't even have to leave the ship, Dayna." Tarrant was doing his best to be persuasive. 

"And I'm not staying on the same ship as one of those--things. If you or Avon plan on taking the Liberator anywhere near that planet, you can drop me off."

"And me," Vila said. "If it worries Dayna, I don't want any part of it."

"We don't have any choice." The change of target allowed Tarrant to swap "persuasive" for "exasperated," a role he enjoyed far more. "The man is a collector."

"I don't care what he is," Dayna snapped.

"You're supposed to be this mighty woman warrior," Tarrant pointed out, the mask of affability not quite back in place as he swung back to cover Dayna. "Are you really frightened of a little--"

"If you want to take him one of those--creatures," Dayna said icily, "you and Avon can catch it on your own. I don't suppose Cally will be too keen on going back to that world either."

"None of us are," Vila said. "Face it, Tarrant, if you insist on doing this, you're minus a crew."

"Oh yes? And what will you do, on your own, without the Liberator and me to hide behind?"

"If I were behind you, Tarrant," Vila told him soberly, "I wouldn't be hiding from anyone else."

"This discussion is pointless," Avon said heavily, coming on to the flight deck followed by Cally and pointedly ignoring Tarrant. "There is no alternative. If we are to approach Dreen, which we must, we need to offer an appropriate gift. The man collects exotic alien life forms. Orac has only been able to find one that he actively wants. If we are to have a hope of gaining his support, we must provide that particular life form and no other."

"Then you'll be Avon's Two from that point on," Vila said. "Or Tarrant's Two, rather," he amended hastily.

"Four if you count the computers," Dayna added.

"Doesn't sound as good," Vila said.

"And given that you will not even speak to each other--" Cally said.

"I think the rebellion's in trouble," Vila finished. "Unless you change your name to Farrant--ow!"

Cally retrieved her foot from Vila's shin. Avon and Tarrant studiously avoided looking at one another.

"In fact, there is an alternative," Orac stated suddenly.

"You told me that was the only kind of creature he--" Vila blurted.

"That is correct. However, like many collectors, Dreen's interest is in the acquisition, not the possession. Many of his...pets...have perished from neglect once the initial pleasure of the conquest has dissipated. Given the inimical nature of the life form under discussion, and the consequent need for strenuous protective measures in any contact situation, I believe a subterfuge could be devised."

"You mean--palm him off with a fake?" Vila said.

"It sounds risky, Orac," Tarrant said dubiously.

"You have been observed to remark on several occasions that risk is your business," Orac said coldly. "I am confident that with the Liberator's resources and my own considerable ingenuity, a simulacrum can be constructed which will deceive any sensor mechanism for a sufficient period of time for Dreen to forget about its existence--I would estimate on average about two weeks--at which point, of course, the occupants can be teleported back to the ship."

Tarrant relaxed. "Well, that doesn't--wait a moment."

"Occupants?" Avon said.

"The simulacrum will have to be occupied by two humans, both of a specific size and weight," Orac explained. "It is necessary that all the limbs should be fully organic and capable of independent movement."

There was a short silence.

"The task will be a difficult one," Orac went on, "requiring considerable physical strength, balance, co-ordination, and endurance. I have already computed the optimal deployment of human resources for the completion of this mission. I need hardly state that adherence to these criteria is critical, and I trust I will have to endure no futile arguments on this score. I will place a diagrammatic illustration upon the main screen, with annotations."

They stared at the diagrammatic illustration. Across the faces of Cally, Dayna and Vila there dawned delighted smiles.

And now Avon and Tarrant did look at each other. They were not smiling.

*

"Splendid, splendid!" Arkor Dreen chuckled vastly, coughed, and spilled wine down the front of his gorgeously brocaded waistcoat as he fondly regarded the monstrosity in the glassine cage. "A genuine Kairos arachnoid at last. And in prime condition too, from the look of it. I won't ask how you came by it..."

"Best not," said Dayna.

"It was not easy," said Cally.

"It'll be the pride of your collection, I'm sure, sir," Vila said warmly, and Cally and Dayna nodded their agreement. "Now, about these arms shipments..."

And, jammed together in the dark, sweaty, cramped shell of the fake arachnoid, balanced painfully on fingers and toes, Avon and Tarrant simultaneously received a clear, crystalline thought:

/Play nicely together, and two weeks will just fly by. Who knows, this could be the start of a beautiful friendship./

Unfortunately, what if anything either of them thought in response to this has not been recorded. 

 


End file.
